


Punishing Byakuya

by Littleredtryinghood



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Byakuya is a brat :), Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Femdom, Gentle Sex, Kissing, M/M, Pegging, Spanking, i wrote it as pegging but it's so vague that it can also work for m readers, my titles are boring but they get to the point, we love a good mean/tender combo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29098863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littleredtryinghood/pseuds/Littleredtryinghood
Summary: Byakuya Togami, Ultimate Prick, is getting on your last nerves.You'll fix that. 😈(By pegging him... you fix that by pegging him.)
Relationships: Togami Byakuya/Reader
Kudos: 72





	Punishing Byakuya

“You know, if you were at _all_ intelligent, you could actually be appealing to someone- _AH!_ ” You cut Byakuya’s quip off with a sharp palm against his ass, his breath audibly catching in his chest in a way that made your heart ache. Pink and red shapes bloomed against his agitated skin, and your head began to feel foggy at seeing the distinct imprint of each of your individual fingers pressed into him. You were so dizzy with lust that you almost forgot to keep moving- but Byakuya’s soft whine (he was still terrible at saying what he wanted) brought you back to earth. 

You smiled. 

Mewling back to him with mock sympathy: “And if you were at _all_ appealing, you’d be appealing… Too bad.” You plunged back into him, your words sharp and mean, but with the grateful, desperate sounds Byakuya was making, you’d think you’d just praised him. And yes, contrary to popular belief, he loved it when you praised him, too. But he always had to earn it first. And you noticed pretty early on that he wasn’t particularly good at earning things.

“Byakuya…” He hissed when you called him by his first name, so quick to get distracted from the moment by his stupid, fat ego. Just to spite him, again, quieter this time: “... _Byakuya_ .” The sound he made was nothing short of _pathetic_ . His head fell limply into the pillow, fingers clutching at everything and nothing, trying weakly to reground himself against the nearly-overwhelming pleasure. But you were most hypnotized by his hips, which you realized Byakuya was shyly pushing back up against you. _More_ , he was saying. You wished he could say it with words.

You’ll help him.

“You know what I think, Byakuya?” It was rhetorical, but you still gave a particularly deep thrust to see if he’d speak. He smothered his mouth with his hand. _Fine_ . “I think you pick fights with me because you know I’ll be rougher with you,” you seethed down at him. Teasing and taunting him was entirely its own reward, Byakuya’s embarrassment unspoken, but hot and thick in the air around you. “I think you like giving me a _reason_ to fuck you as hard as I do,” you flirted callously, pulling back and burying to the hilt. And at that, for the first time that night, Byakuya openly moaned. _Fuck_.

“But you don’t have to _give_ me a reason,” you whispered as if it was a confession. Underneath your palms, Byakuya’s back heaved with a dreamy sigh- relief and gratitude filling his chest at any hint of praise. On your next thrust, you raked your nails down his back- breath filling Byakuya’s lungs in a desperate hiss. And what you saw next made you stop, a silent gasp falling out of your mouth before you could close it. 

In the dim light, you could just make out the pink lines that decorated the naked expanse of his back, bright and raw and territorial. Byakuya rarely _ever_ let you mark him (that _fucking_ ego), so whenever you saw your print on his skin- proof that underneath his cold, proud exterior, he just wanted to belong to someone, to _you_ \- you felt like your heart was going to explode. He was always so defensive, so taut, so certain that the world was out to take what he had that when he finally let his guard down, and you were lucky enough to see it, you just wanted to stop and _watch_.

However, stopping- waiting at all, even- was not one of Byakuya’s strong suits. The bed dipped slightly and the sheets rustled as Byakuya craned his neck to look at you, blonde wisps of hair plastered to his brow. “...What is it?” He pressed timidly into the air after a few moments of still silence. Uncertainty- _vulnerability_ \- laced his voice, and the impulse to pull him close to you and press an open mouth kiss to his neck hit you like an electric shot.

Despite how intimate the two of you had become, it still took enormous amounts of courage to admit what you said next: “I just wanted to look at you. You’re so fucking _pretty_ , Byakuya.” For what felt like several minutes, time stopped and your heartbeat fluttered against your throat. Maybe he hadn’t heard you. Or maybe… maybe he just ignored you. Maybe he secretly hated your guts and he was gearing up for this exact right moment to tell you. 

And then you heard him:

“... _thank you_.”

Goosebumps ran across your skin when you felt Byakuya reach behind himself to graze the tips of his fingers across your thigh- slow, languid, and so tender, it was almost alien coming from him. And your heart fucking _melted_ . Nestling yourself against his back, you reached forward and threaded your fingers through Byakuya’s hair- and at that he practically fucking _purred_. Shockingly, in all the time you’d shared with him, Byakuya was never one to actively seek out his own unabashed pleasure. So when Byakuya started minutely grinding himself against the mattress, arousal hit you in a hot, violent wave. 

You saw, rather than felt, your fingers dig into the roots of his perfect, blonde hair. He so rarely ever let you pull his hair. Your heart thundering in your chest grew deafening- and all at once a thousand feelings and a million words bubbled behind your lips, threatening to spill out and over Byakuya’s bruised and blushed and burning skin. 

But this time you held them.

Instead, you pushed Byakuya back into the mattress and watched, utterly entranced, as his head shot back and his mouth opened in a sudden, desperate wail. Your hips moved on their own: fucking deep inside him and then reeling back, only to push in even _deeper_ on the next thrust. Byakuya weakly attempted to muffle his sounds into the pillow underneath him- and what happened next was simply reactionary. 

It always pissed you off when he tried to be quiet. 

_SMACK!_ Byakuya yelped again at the impact of your hand on his ass, shame and excitement turning his breath ragged. Then, another one. Harder this time. _SMACK!_ You ran your spare hand through his hair and pulled hard: uncompromising, forcing him upwards and open, forcing him to be heard. He audibly gasped- and it was _perfect_. You swear you could have come right then and there.

But Byakuya _actually did_.

Byakuya didn’t usually ever warn you when he was about to come. Maybe orgasms were still somewhat foreign to him, too sudden, too overwhelming. Maybe he was embarrassed by it. Or maybe sex was the one thing that inspired him to shut up and be quiet for a change. But he didn’t need to warn you. You always knew.

When Byakuya’s high-pitched whines suddenly dissipated to a soundless pant, you prodded tender fingers against his shuddering thighs. “ _On your hands and knees_ ,” you crooned into his ear. He didn’t protest. With his last remaining strength, Byakuya raised himself on precarious forearms and pushed back onto you. And you rewarded him: “ _Good boy_ .” So when you tilted your head and slotted your lips against his- his mouth already parted in a grateful sigh- he didn’t shy away. For this one, brief moment, there was no longer any shame. No empire, no mask, no reputation to hide behind. He was just Byakuya. _Your_ Byakuya.

 _And Byakuya was coming_.

With a smug grin, you stilled his stuttering hips with one hand, and wrapped your fist around his dripping cock with the other. To your wicked delight, Byakuya yelped as soon as you touched him, a sound you were quick to snuff out with another deep kiss. It didn’t take more than a couple frantic pumps before Byakuya was melting into your grip- profanities leaving his lips in a messy, passionate rivulet. Your lips muffled Byakuya’s moans as he came into your palm, and for just a moment you regretted not being able to hear him. But the moment didn’t last long.

Unfortunately, your and Byakuya’s tender silence was always short-lived.

Absentmindedly, your fingers glilded against one another, feeling the sticky substance between with a mixture of disgust and adoration. After what felt like several, bittersweet minutes, you heard him speak: “You should clean that up.” And no matter how many times he said it like that, in that same, overcompensating, detached tone, your heart broke again just the same. You _hated_ him for it. 

“ _Fine_ ,” you spat. Every instinct in you screamed to hold him closer, to persuade him for another round (slower this time), to kiss him back to reality. But you knew it was fruitless. And suddenly you hated yourself for putting yourself in this position again in the first place. It was _Byakuya Togami_. What the fuck were you expecting.

You swear your arms had never felt so heavy as you tried to unwrap them from around Byakuya’s hips. But then, softer this time, less a command and more a plea: “...I didn’t say you _had_ to move.” And suddenly hope bloomed in your chest, bold and bright and warm and attempting to match Byakuya’s heart beating through the skin of his back. 

_Byakuya_ , your heart called back to him.

As you renestled your arms around his waist and braved the territory of pressing a soft kiss to his cheek (which he grumbled about for a whole 2 seconds less than usual!), you thought:

_Maybe, just maybe, you could make it work with this prick._


End file.
